


Understand the Miracle of Living

by wingsyouburn



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Amputation, Disabled Character, Established Relationship, F/M, Injury Recovery, Mid-Canon, Pre-Canon, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 19:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsyouburn/pseuds/wingsyouburn
Summary: Sometimes a fiery ending is the only way to spark a new beginning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runicmagitek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/gifts).

> For ~runicmagitek. I hope you enjoy your gift! The prompt I chose was an AU version in which Setzer rescues Darill and nurses her back. I hope this fits the bill for you - I had a lot of fun writing it! ♥

It started as a bit of friendly competition between their airships. Both built for different functions - Setzer’s to entertain and enjoy, Darill’s to thrill and amaze. Darill constantly tweaked and experimented with how far the mechanical workings could take her, whereas Setzer was happier feeling the wind in his hair, knowing they were both happy. If Darill wanted to show off, he’d let her - and he’d be damned if he didn’t want to try and chase her down anyway.

Darill was more to him than a peer, a friend, a confidant. What had once started as a rivalry between two likeminded souls grew into solid, true love. Darill was going to prove herself to the world someday as the best pilot and mechanic that ever lived. Setzer’s own skills paled in comparison to Darill’s, but he learned more every time he watched her. This sort of race provided them both with a thrill unlike any other. Setzer chased it at poker tables and he found it in the arms of this insatiable, incredible, genius woman. A woman who would rather fuck in the engine room than on a bed of silk and flowers, and Setzer loved her all the more for it.

The last thing either of them expected was a malfunction in the engine room. Her ship, the Falcon, burst into flames, large enough for Setzer to see from a kilometer behind her.

This was no longer a race - this was a rescue mission. Darill’s ambition could cost her life.

The Falcon was built for speed, not creature comforts. Setzer knew the details of the airship as well as he knew his own Blackjack. In the case of a crash, nothing would save Darill from the worst - unless he could get to her first. He’d once joked that her quest for speed and perfection would lead to her downfall, but Setzer never wanted to be right.

The world around him blurred as he pushed the engines harder. Below decks, metal screeched against metal, coaxing more speed from the overworked gears. “Darill!” Setzer screamed into the wind. “Hang on! I’m coming!

And the Falcon careened into the valley. 

He landed the Blackjack as close as he could to the burning wreckage. As soon as the airship touched ground, Setzer ran out into the carnage, ignoring any thoughts about his own safety. The sash he normally kept tied around his waist went to his mouth, blocking out the smoke. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, and he didn’t feel the heat as he climbed onto the upper deck. 

“Darill!” He shouted until his throat was sore. Fire spewed from the door to the lower decks. If she was inside the ship, he didn’t know if he could get her out, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. “Darill! Where are you?”

A low moan came from his right. The ship’s main console had folded in on itself in the crash. A swath of blonde hair poked out from underneath. Setzer rushed over, ripping off his long, black jacket and balling it up to place under her head. There wasn’t any blood, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t injured. “Darill, _mon étoile_,” he murmured. She was breathing, and that meant everything. “Can you move?” 

“My leg,” she muttered, gritting her teeth. “Console’s pinned it. Can’t get it free.” 

The Falcon rocked beneath their feet. Setzer feared something had collapsed inside - staying aboard was not an option.  He stroked her cheek, as much to reassure himself as it was for her. “I’m going to move it,” he said, “but I can’t hold it for long. Once I lift it, can you tug it free?” 

Darill grimaced, but she nodded. “Do it.” 

Letting her go, Setzer wiggled his fingers underneath the console. The metal was searing hot, but he hardly noticed. Arms straining, he lifted the bulk up a few inches, bracing it with his shoulder. “Darill! Now!” 

Screaming, Darill rolled out of the way. Setzer dropped the broken console and reached out for her. She slumped against the blackened deck, coughing in the smoke. It was getting to Setzer, too, but he ignored it, scooping her up into his arms and carrying her out of the wreckage. 

There was no saving the Falcon. But the most precious thing to him was safe. That was worth more than all the stars in the sky. 

* * *

The closest town was Kohlingen, and the doctor there was an older gentleman who treated more colds and coughs than actual wounds. He took one look at Darill’s crushed leg, replaced the meager bandages Setzer had used aboard the Blackjack, and proclaimed: “I don’t think you’ll be saving the leg, boy, but it’s beyond my skills to take it from her.”

“It’d be best if you never called me ‘boy’ again,” Setzer warned. “Or you can forget your payment. What is it that you _can _do for us?” 

“I can sedate her until you can get her to a bigger city. Vector, if you can. You’re the damn fool who came in the airship, are you not?” 

With a pouch full of pain and sleeping potions, Darill rested in Setzer’s suite. Her leg was braced and propped up on pillows, but every time she woke, she sobbed and screamed. Even summoning the Mysidian Rabbit didn’t numb her pain. All Setzer could do was get her to the help she needed as fast as possible. 

Of course, the best doctors and best technology outside of Vector lied in Jidoor. The Blackjack wasn’t allowed to fly through Vector’s airspace - they’d be shot down if he did - and Darill would rather die than return to a city that once scorned her. In Jidoor, everyone knew him thanks to his many visits to the Opera House.  He sent ahead for the best doctor money could buy, and the surgeon met them at the Blackjack. They whisked Darill away, promising Setzer an update as soon as they could. 

Surgery lasted hours. Setzer paced the meager waiting room, wearing holes into the floor. There weren’t enough cigarettes or alcohol to numb his frayed nerves, nor did he wish to be drunk when Darill woke. She would need him at his best when she was at her worst. He kept reminding himself that she lived, and that was enough. 

Hopefully it would be enough for Darill, too. 

Finally the surgeon appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands with a clean towel. Setzer whipped around to face him, jaw set in a firm line. “Well? How is she?” 

The surgeon sighed. “She’ll live,” he said, “but the leg was a complete loss. We amputated it above the knee.” 

Setzer nodded. He’d already figured that much based on the assessment from the doctor in Kohlingen. “May I see her?” 

“She’s sleeping comfortably, but may not wake for a few hours. You’re welcome to sit with her if you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” Setzer bowed to the man, and then followed him back to the recovery room. Seeing Darill lying there, skin pale against the stark white of the room, had his heart skip a beat. The doctor excused himself, and Setzer sank into a chair beside her bed. 

He took her hand in both of his, careful of the IV in her arm and all of her bandages. There were other wounds he hadn’t had time to digest, including several large burns and abrasions along her body, but the leg needed the most attention. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, blowing out a sigh. “_Mon étoile,_” he murmured. “I’m here. I’m always here.” 

Setzer lost track of how long he sat with her. He spoke of everything but the crash - the next play at the Opera House, his ideas for improvements on the Blackjack. He stroked her hair and held her hand. He reminded her that he would be there for her, for whatever she needed going forward. 

At some point he drifted off, listening to the sound of beeping machines and Darill’s breathing. The chair was by far the least comfortable place to sleep, but he didn’t care, because he wasn’t about to leave Darill’s side. He woke to Darill’s fingers twitching in his own. As he lifted his head, Darill was watching him through half-closed eyes. 

“You look like shit,” Darill whispered, giving him a half-hearted smirk. 

“Darill.” Setzer was up in an instant, leaning over her and kissing her forehead. “You’re awake.” 

“With the way I’m currently feeling, I wish I wasn’t.” 

He brushed the hair back from her face. Her skin was cool to the touch, but not in a way that made him worry. “Do you wish for me to call the doctor?” 

“No.” She shook her head, then winced. “I want you to give it to me straight, Setzer. I know I’ve been out of it for a while. How bad was it?” 

Darill wasn’t the sort of woman who wanted to hear a sugar coated version of the truth. “They’ve amputated your left leg,” he said. “There are burns and lacerations covering half of your body. Considering the wreck I pulled you out of, the fact that you’re here at all is nothing short of a miracle.” 

She drew a sharp breath, jaw locking into place and eyes squeezing shut. “And the Falcon?” 

“There’s nothing to save of the Falcon, love.” 

“Do you know for sure, or is this your assumption?” 

“If you’re asking if I went to the wreck to see what’s left? No. Saving your life was my first priority.” 

“Now you’ve done that, so get me out of here and we can get my ship.” She tried to sit up, but Setzer’s hands on her shoulders kept her where she was. Under normal circumstances, she would have fought against him, but she was weak from her injuries. 

His love was stubborn. His love was a genius when it came to machinery. But right now, she needed to take care of herself or she was never going to be able to fly again. “Darill,” he said, swallowing past the lump in his throat, “I promise I will take you to the wreckage as soon as you’re better. But you’re in no condition.” 

“I’ll tell you when I’m ready and then you will take me-”

“You lost your _leg, mon étoile,_” he said, harsher than he intended. Anyone would be in shock to learn the extent of such an injury. Perhaps she hadn’t really heard him the first time. “You need time. Time to adjust. Time to heal.” 

That got to her. Darill was silent for a long minute, and then she reached for the blanket. He eased back and let her pull it down, seeing the bandages covering what remained of her leg. “Oh gods,” she said, her voice shaking. “It’s gone.” 

There wasn’t anything he could say. When she reached for his hand, he took it, and he let her hang onto it for dear life. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and in the years he’d been by Darill’s side, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen her cry. Setzer cupped her cheek, leaning in as close as he could without crawling into the bed with her. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Let it go. I’ll be here to catch you.” 

Darill let out one sob, then another. She clutched him to her, digging her fingers into his shoulders through his shirt, but Setzer didn’t care. Darill was alive. No matter how long this process took, Setzer would be by her side. Two free spirits bound together by fate, uncaring what the rest of the world thought of them. 

He’d see to it that she took to the skies again. Perhaps not in her Falcon, but another ship of her own design. They had time. They had the dedication. And Setzer would give Darill all the support in the world - whatever she needed until she felt like herself again. He’d promised her. He’d promised himself. 

Darill was his world. It was time he proved how deep that love went for her. 


	2. Chapter 2

Recovery was a process, which Setzer expected. While the surgeon allowed Darill to leave their facility after a few days, Darill’s mobility was limited.  She had to relearn everything - how to balance and carry her weight, how to use the crutches the doctor provided, how to navigate a world that wasn’t meant for the disabled. Most days she took it in stride. Some days she threw the crutches at his head. 

Mood swings were inevitable, and Darill had always been fueled by her drive and her passion. This was but one more challenge presented to her, and Setzer didn’t doubt she’d ace it, as she’d done with every roadblock before. 

She’d also been given a wooden artificial leg. Darill hated the thing from the start, poking at it and complaining about its weight. Setzer figured she resented the fact that she needed it, and chose not to bring it up unless Darill mentioned it first. One afternoon he found her in his study, the leg off and on top of his desk, parchment spread in front of her. Darill sat in his chair, mindlessly spinning the quill in the inkwell, scribbling down something in between staring out the window at the sky outside. Not wanting to disturb her, he waited in the doorway, finally rapping his knuckles against the frame. “Darill, love?” Setzer called. 

“I need you to find me parts to make this.” She never turned her head, simply held her parchment out for him to take. 

He crossed the room, taking the paper from her hand. Over the years, he’d seen tons of Darill’s blueprints, usually for various improvements she wanted to make to the Falcon. Sometimes she came up with ideas she insisted he add to the Blackjack, too. But these ones were new. Setzer studied them, hovering his fingers over the still-wet ink. 

“You want to build a new prosthetic,” he said, words filled with wonder. 

“You don’t expect me to use _this _piece of shit for the rest of my life, do you?” Darill gestured to the wooden limb on the desk. “Between you and I, we can design something that’s actually functional. That can support going up all those damn stairs of your airship, that will let me be able to start rebuilding the Falcon again. We can do _better _than this, Setzer.” 

“Are you sure the design will work?” After all, neither of them had ever built a prosthetic limb before. If anyone was able to do it, it would be Darill. She never let anything stand in her way, and to see her returning to that mentality had a smile tugging at his lips. 

She shrugged. “Only one way to find out. Most of these parts we should be able to get in Zozo.” Darill dipped her head back, eyeing him. “We are headed to Zozo next, aren’t we?” 

Setzer crossed the room in three strides, leaning over her. With her head tilted like that, he brushed her hair away from her face and left a teasing kiss upon her lips. “I can make that happen.” 

Her hands tangled in his hair, drawing it down around their faces. She dragged out the kiss until they were both out of breath. “Thank you,” she murmured to him. 

“Of course.” Darill never let something go until she’d perfected it. It made sense that she’d do the same with the new prosthetic she now needed.  It was a way of making this injury her own - of moving on, accepting its place in her life, and not letting it define her. Setzer traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. “Where do we begin?”

* * *

As Setzer predicted, Darill wasn’t satisfied with her first design. Or her second. Or her seventh, or eighth, or even the fifteenth. Together they spent many sleepless nights pouring over new ways to modify the gears in the artificial knee, or which combination of metal and rubber could properly replicate the tendons in her leg. Setzer would bring her drinks and food, and coax her back to the bedroom when the stress got to be too much. Darill was obsessive when it came to perfection. As well she should be when it came to something she needed to use every day. 

It was lucky design number 16 that finally did it. Darill strapped the artificial limb into place, standing slowly to her feet. Her cane was propped against the table - another item they’d built from scrap metal recovered from the Falcon - but she didn’t reach for it. Instead she walked from one end to the other, shifting her weight from her real foot to the artificial one. 

“How does it feel?” Setzer asked from his place at the table, wiping the grease from his hands with an old rag. 

“Better than the others, that’s for sure,” she said, continuing to pace the length of the room. “It’s comfortable too. You were right - adding another bit of padding was the key.” 

He smirked. “I feel like I ought to write this moment down. You finally admitting that I was right.”

Darill shook her head, though she was smiling. “Don’t let it go to your head.” She walked over to him, cupping his cheek in one hand and kissing him. Like every time, it lit up every one of Setzer’s nerve endings. He deepened it, sneaking his tongue into her mouth. “All that’s left is to test it out.” 

“I thought that was what we were doing,” he said, tangling a hand in her blonde hair. “I could think of a few things.” All of them filthy, and several of them involved him bending her over the table. Or of drawing her new leg over his shoulders while he kneeled before her and pleased her with his tongue. 

“And we will,” Darill promised, nipping at his lower lip before she pulled back, straightening up. “I need to see how it’s going to hold up under more… rigorous circumstances.” 

“I wasn’t planning on sweet and gentle, _mon étoile_.” 

“And I wasn’t planning on letting that rattling noise from the engine continue,” she shot back. If there was one thing Darill loved as much as sex, it was tinkering with an airship. With hers out of commission, that meant the Blackjack was her new playground. “Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice it, hmm?” 

Setzer chuckled, standing up and pulling her towards him, her back to his chest. In truth, he’d been aware the engine needed work, and also knew that Darill would kill him in his sleep if he attempted to fix it without her input. “You think I would let something like that go?” he asked, pressing open-mouthed kisses against where her neck met her shoulder. “It’s more fun to fix it together.” He nibbled on her earlobe. “Even more fun to fuck you in the engine room.” 

She shuddered, rocking her hips back into him. Darill knew exactly what she did to him, and what a better way to test out the new limb she’d built for herself? “Is that a promise, Gabbiani?” 

“I always keep my word.” Setzer was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them, no matter what rumors circulated about him. “Perhaps it’ll be incentive to get things done quickly, hmm?” He let her go, stepping back to keep some space between them. 

Darill threw his rag at him. “What a fucking tease,” she said, but she was smiling, and Setzer’s heart beat harder in his chest. “Come on. Let’s get to work.” 

* * *

Soon enough, even tweaking with the Blackjack and improving her leg wasn’t enough to satisfy Darill’s creative urges. She sought a ship of her own, one she could modify without needing Setzer’s input or permission. They worked well together, and always had, but their tastes in accommodations varied greatly. Setzer loved the finer things in life: silk clothing, expensive wines, the softest beds he could find. Darill would forgo those in favor of something mechanically and methodically better and faster than anything else in the world.

They were both birds who could not, would not, be caged. Setzer could no more ask her to accept the Blackjack as her own when he would be just as eager for freedom were he in her position. Their relationship worked because they understood that need within each other. With Darill’s leg healed and prosthetic in place, it was time for her to fly again. 

So when they learned of an airship skeleton outside of Kohlingen, Darill met Setzer’s eyes from across the poker table. All thoughts of their game were long forgotten. “If we reach our top speed,” she said, “we can be there by sundown.” 

He nodded, folding his cards and leaving them on the table. “Perhaps a bit sooner. It will allow you time to find a place to stay while you’re there.” 

“You won’t come with me?” 

“You know I won’t abandon you there,” he said, reaching over for her hand. “But I know how you are when you get lost in your work. I cannot stay in Kohlingen that long. Besides,” he gave her a small smile, “we’ve a mutual friend I promised we’d help. Maria will be disappointed if I don’t appear in Jidoor to rescue her.” 

Maria was an opera singer, and one of the best in the land. Granted, there wasn’t anywhere better to perform that Jidoor’s famous Opera House, but the Impresario was an overbearing, demanding man. Maria needed her wings as much as they did, and she had promised her presence at the opening of another, new stage outside of Figaro. Setzer vowed he’d give her an exit worthy of the operas she sang, and Darill was in on the plan. 

“You have time until you need to be in Jidoor,” Darill pointed out. 

“And I have customers to pick up,” he said, gesturing to the gambling tables around them. With the Empire’s crackdown, it wasn’t like the Blackjack’s casino was making the money it used to, but it was enough. It financed their ship repairs and made it possible for Setzer to live his dream. Now Darill could return to chasing down hers. “You deserve to have this time,” he continued, lacing their fingers together. “And I’ll be back to help. I always am.” 

She got up from the table and slid into his lap. Setzer smoothed a hand down her side and along her thigh, never hitching when he felt metal beneath her clothes. “I love you, you know,” she murmured, kissing his forehead. 

Setzer returned it with a kiss underneath her chin. “As I love you, _mon étoile_. Now let’s get you to Kohlingen.” 


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, the spectacular exit they’d planned for Maria was not without its hiccups. A giant purple octopus in the rafters, for one, and a stunt double in Maria’s place, for two. It wasn’t until Setzer had returned the girl to the airship and she greeted him with a sword to his throat that he realized he’d taken the wrong girl. 

He had to admit he liked her, though. Maria was sweet, but she lacked the gumption Darill possessed. And this lookalike had a spine of steel as well, a trait Setzer always admired. She was well on her way to impressing him. 

Apparently it was all a ploy to get to him and his airship. Her name was Celes, she said, and she was with the Returners - rebels fighting against the Empire, and they needed passage to Vector. With her was the King of Figaro, a bodybuilder of some kind, and another man Setzer didn’t recognize, though he suddenly felt the need to ensure all the ship’s valuables were still intact. And oh, she was stunning - blonde hair and blue eyes that pierced through him, much like Darill’s did, and it only had him missing his love. 

“Fine,” Setzer said, waving a hand, “I’ll help you - if Celes becomes my wife.” These people didn’t seem to realize that he actually wouldn’t marry the girl after knowing her for all of five minutes, but she was pretty and perhaps Darill would like her too. If they wanted him to do something as drastic as flying his ship into Vector - a place that was rife with danger and where there was a high bounty on his head - then he was going to demand something equally as outrageous in return. 

The men with her sputtered, but Celes held steady. “Fine,” she said. “You’re a gambling man, aren’t you? We’ll flip a coin for it. Heads, you help us. If it’s tails, it’s yours. Well, Mr. Gambler?” 

Setzer laughed. “I like it! I accept!” 

“Celes-” The one with the bandana tried to say something, but she waved him off and flipped the coin. 

Heads. 

“Now,” Celes said, one corner of her mouth twitching, “it’s time for you to hold up your end of the bargain.” 

He kneeled and examined the coin, laughing even harder. “A double-headed coin! I’ve never seen one of those before.” 

Her smile grew bigger. “I’m afraid you’ve been hustled.” 

“And rightfully so!” Anyone else might have been angry, but not Setzer. These were the sort of thrills that made life worth living. “I love it! Gambling against the Empire, that’s a new one for me. My life is but a chip in your pile. Time to ante up!” 

As the Returners settled themselves on the airship, Setzer pulled one of his employees aside. The boy wasn’t more than 18, but he’d been with Setzer for the better part of a year, and he knew he was trustworthy. “I need you to do me a favor,” he said, ducking his head low so no one around them could listen in. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Send a message to Darill in Kohlingen. Maria will still need her rescue, and Darill will have to see to it whereas I cannot.” 

“Anything else?” 

Setzer drew a breath and slowly let it go. Hopefully trusting these Returners wasn’t the biggest mistake of his life. “And tell her I’ve lost a bet and am on my way to Vector. When this is over, we’ll meet her in Kohlingen.” 

The boy bowed to him. “I’ll get on it right away, sir.” 

Setzer stood in the hallway, watching him go. He shouldn’t go to Vector and he knew it, but life was about taking risks, and Celes had earned his help fair and square. It was his fault for not verifying the coin ahead of time, and he didn’t back down after giving his word. 

He just hoped that he wouldn’t regret doing so when it was all over. 

* * *

Vector had been a bad idea. So was trying to stop Kefka from interfering with the Warring Triad, setting all of the magic in the world out of balance. 

At first, it seemed as though they were just running for their lives, and Kefka was the worst they had to worry about. But then the ground split beneath their feet. Winds howled and pulled at the Blackjack. The wheel jerked in Setzer’s hands, and it took all of his strength to keep them flying in a straight line. “Hold on!” he shouted, but his words were lost to the chaos.

Mountains rose where plains had once been. Valleys sank deep into the ocean floor. It reminded Setzer of something out of one of Maria’s operas, but this was reality, and there was nothing their team could do to stop it. 

Then the shockwave hit the Blackjack. 

The deck cleaved in two. Half of the party fell into the sky. A streak of green hair flew past him, and Setzer let go of the wheel to grab Terra’s hand. Even though he knew the Blackjack was lost, a captain should go down with the ship. “I’ve got you!” he said to the scared girl, but he didn’t know if she could hear him. 

He tried to reach the railing. Or a piece of broken floor. Anything to keep them connected to the ship as it plummeted from the sky. Terra slipped further from his grasp, and just like that, she was gone. “Terra!” Setzer shouted, but it was too late. 

The ground rushed at them. His airship was destroyed. Setzer could not delay the inevitable. 

Was this what Darill felt when the Falcon had crashed, all those years ago? 

_Darill, _he whispered in his mind, _I love you. Forgive me. _

And then the darkness took him. 

* * *

Someone was playing with his hair. Soft fingers working through the silver waves, a soothing motion repeated again and again. Setzer moaned, turning his head towards the feeling, only to feel a hand on his shoulder, holding him down. 

“You fucking _idiot,”_ a familiar voice muttered. “Is this how you think we should make things even, hmm? A wreck for a wreck?” 

Darill. 

Setzer forced his eyes open, seeing a halo of blonde hair and bright, bright sunlight. “_Mon étoile,_” he croaked, throat drier than the desert outside of Figaro. His entire body felt like a giant bruise, but he could wiggle his toes and his fingers. He took that to be a good sign. “You’re here.” 

“Somehow.” Darill’s pant leg had ridden up, revealing the mechanical limb underneath. She sat beside him in the grass. The wind carried the scent of burning electronics and metal, but it wasn’t coming from her. “You’re damn lucky, you know that?” 

He coughed, turning over in her arms. Nothing seemed broken, which was a miracle in and of itself. “I think I just wasted all of my chances,” he muttered as he sat up, blinking as his eyes adjusted. 

A few hundred feet away, what was left of the Blackjack smoldered. One of the propellors was buried in the earth. Fragments of metal littered the grassy plains. What remained of the upper decks were engulfed in flames. Setzer sighed, watching his dreams burn before him. When the Falcon crashed, his only concern had been getting Darill out, knowing he’d still be able to fly. Now even that avenue was closed to him. 

“You want to tell me what the fuck happened up there?” There was a hard edge to Darill’s voice, one he’d come to recognize over the years. “And if you tell me you lost a bet, I’m going to kick your ass again. You knew going back to Vector is bad news.” 

Setzer sighed. “I know, I know. I hadn’t thought it would end like… this.” He gestured to the wreckage and the world beyond. “The Returners were trying to stop Kefka. I was their ride.” 

“Kefka. That mad general working with Gestahl?” 

“Gestahl is dead. Kefka has the Empire now.” Setzer glanced up at the sky. “And he disrupted the Warring Triad. In doing so, he nearly destroyed everything.” 

The entire world suffered because of their mistakes. Had they been able to kill Kefka from the start, perhaps the Blackjack would be intact and the world would be as it had once been. Perhaps his comrades in arms would still be standing here with him. “Did you find anyone else?” he asked, scared to hear the answer. 

Darill shook her head. “Just you. How many others were with you? Did you have a full crew this time?” 

“No.” For that, Setzer was thankful. He’d unloaded his passengers before leaving for Vector, and he could manage the ship by himself if he didn’t have customers to entertain. Without knowing what would happen in Vector, he’d given his usual crew a few days’ shore leave. It was only the Returners with him, but now they were gone too. “But there were several people with the Returners. Good people. They wanted to do what was right.” 

“Doesn’t matter if it gets us all killed.” 

He held up a hand to stop her. “I know, Darill. No need to remind me.” 

Her arm snaked around him, pulling him into her. Setzer clung to her, resting his head in her shoulder and breathing in her scent. Engine grease and soap and dirt, and he let it wash over him, comforting him. “I thought I’d lost you,” she murmured into his hair. “Seemed you still had one ace left up your sleeve after all.” 

“Saved it for the moment I needed it most.” He raised his head to kiss her, pouring all his love into that one gesture. “Where are we?” 

“Kohlingen is three kilometers that way.” Darill pointed. “I have a chocobo, it’s the easiest way to get there.” 

Setzer nodded. The Blackjack was lost. Continuing to sit here and stare at its corpse would only depress him further. “We should go. You think someone can still make a stiff drink in town?” 

She chuckled, though it didn’t have the same warmth behind it that it used to. “Between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.” 


	4. Chapter 4

A year passed since the world fell out of balance, destroying the Blackjack and changing everyone’s lives forever. 

Darill secured a home for the two of them in Kohlingen, and Setzer tried to get used to the feel of his feet on solid ground all the time. It felt like walking in lead shoes, and he did his best to ignore it. They scavenged what parts they could from the fallen Blackjack, and they worked on Darill’s new project: a sleeker, faster airship than the Falcon and the Blackjack combined. What they couldn’t find or salvage they built from scratch, a suitable challenge for them both. 

When Darill’s leg ached with overuse and phantom pains, Setzer was there to remind her to take a break. When Setzer woke screaming from the nightmares of the people he’d flown to their deaths, Darill soothed him with kisses and touches. They were rebuilding their lives as best they could - and everyone around them was doing the same.

This was their new reality. They had to adapt to it or they would never survive. 

The inn in Kohlingen still served the best alcohol within riding distance. Setzer liked to play cards there, putting their winnings towards new airship parts. Darill liked to watch the crowd, cheering him on and acting as his lucky charm. It was a quiet existence compared to the one they’d once had, but it was theirs, and they were still here to live it. Right now, that was enough for Setzer. 

Until the door opened, and Celes Chere strolled in, the Figaro twins following behind her. 

Setzer straightened in his seat, lighting another cigarette. His eyes met Celes’ from across the room, and he gave her the slightest smile. Some of their team had survived after all, and his heart swelled in his chest at the thought. 

“Come to convince me with another trick coin?” he called over, taking a drag off his cigarette. “I’ll have inspect it this time, though. You’ll forgive me for being cautious.” 

Celes held her hands before her, as if proclaiming her innocence. “There’s no tricks here, Setzer. May I join you?” 

“Chair’s empty.” If Darill wanted a seat, he had an open lap or he could grab another chair. “Why are you here, Celes?” 

“We’re working on a plan to stop Kefka,” she said. The twins, Setzer noted, hung back by the door. “Will you join us?” 

He snorted, and Celes’ jaw tightened. “Considering that the last time I helped you it cost me my ship and almost my life? I’ll pass. I appreciate the sentiment, though.” 

“Surely you’re not content with… this?” Celes gestured to the bar around them. “You didn’t hesitate to help us before. What’s so different now?” 

Everything had changed, and Celes didn’t know. Or perhaps she did - certainly the young woman had been through her fair share of pain since the world as they knew it ended. “Well,” he said, holding his cigarette between his teeth as he poured himself another glass of scotch, “my airship is destroyed, for one. No one can challenge Kefka when he’s basically calling himself a god, for two.” 

“Kefka’s delusional,” Celes said, “but he’s not a god. I’m not afraid of him. Are you?” 

“Fear is a very human emotion, my dear Celes. I’m a businessman. I know when to cut my losses.” He pointed towards the door. “Taking him on right now? It’s suicide. I already faced death and won once. I can’t do that again.”

“So it is fear that holds you back.” 

“I’d prefer to call it self-preservation.” 

“What happened to the gambler I knew?” 

Setzer laughed, a low sound barely audible over the noise of the rest of the bar. “He played all his chips and lost. And learned his lesson.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t quite say that.” 

Darill’s voice cut through the tension between them as she sidled up to his side. She had another glass and a fresh bottle in one hand, her cane in the other. Sitting on his lap, Darill poured the remnants of Setzer’s bottle into her glass and stared Celes down. “Setzer, darling, who’s this?” 

He slid a hand up Darill’s back, needing to touch her, to remind himself that she was still there. Darill made these miserable days worth living for. “_Mon étoile, _this is Celes,” he purred, kissing Darill’s shoulder. “She’s with the Returners. Trying to convince me to join them on another suicidal mission.” He met Celes’ eyes, pleased to see the younger woman squirming in her seat before she stilled herself. Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe it was attraction. Either way he liked when Celes let her emotions show. “Celes, this is my partner, Darill.” 

“Charmed, I’m sure.” Celes bowed her head to Darill, but didn’t offer a hand to shake. Over by the door, Edgar perked up, likely noticing that another lady had joined the fray. “We were discussing business.” 

“Trying to twist his arm is more like it.” Darill shrugged, “He can be easily convinced, but not for the reasons you think. Should’ve used your womanly charms on him.” 

Setzer chuckled. “And tear my eyes away from you? Darill, you wound me.” 

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t enjoy watching it,” she said, leaning in for another kiss. She tasted like scotch and smoke and he’d always loved that about her. “But I doubt that’s why she’s come here.” Darill met Celes’ eyes. “What is it you’re asking of Setzer?” 

Celes squared her shoulders. “His assistance in fighting Kefka.” 

“That’s rich.” Darill snorted, knocking back half her glass. “Tell me you have specifics in mind.” 

To Celes’ credit, she didn’t turn to look at Edgar and Sabin behind her, nor did it seem as though she was making it up on the fly. “Our party was scattered in the wake of our last encounter with Kefka. Our first goal is to find everyone, assuming they’ve survived. And then, to tackle Kefka’s tower.” 

“See?” Setzer waved a hand. “I told you. It’s a death wish.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing,” Darill said, patting his cheek. “Perhaps things will run differently if I’m along too.” 

He almost choked on his drink, but hid it behind a cough. “Darill?” 

Leaning across the table, Darill’s blue eyes grew hard. Celes never flinched, evidence that she was still a General though she no longer had her rank or armor. “I am to assume that you’re asking for Setzer’s help because you hope he still has an airship, yes?” 

“That was our original arrangement, yes,” Celes said, and Setzer nodded in agreement. “I was under the impression the Blackjack did not survive the Floating Continent.” 

“It didn’t,” Darill said, “but we have been working on something new, Setzer and I. A new dream, if you will.” She looked over at him, plucked his cigarette from his fingertips, and took a drag from it. “I think she’s ready for a test flight.” 

“Darill.” Setzer laid a hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “The engine runs, yes. But to call it sky worthy is a bit of a stretch.” 

“We have Edgar,” Celes pointed out. “Surely he could be of help with any mechanical issues.” 

“But then he’ll want to fly it,” Setzer shot back, “so perhaps we’ll let the good king keep his hands from getting dirty.” He liked Edgar, to be sure; he was the closest thing Setzer had to a friend among the Returners. But Darill preferred her methods and would never allow Edgar in her space, nor would she tolerate his ladies’ man act. There was a part of Setzer who wouldn’t mind watching Edgar try, though. 

Sitting up, Darill got up from the table. Her balance wobbled, but she waved away Setzer’s hand when he reached out to steady her. “Setzer and I can handle it,” she said, grasping her cane.  “If you’re so interested in our help, meet us here at dawn tomorrow.” 

“Darill,” Setzer said, but he knew that look in her eyes. There would be no stopping the woman once she’d set her sights on something. Whether or not she actually wanted to help the Returners, Setzer didn’t know. But showing off her craftsmanship and testing her new design? Darill would press herself to her limits. Celes’ approval didn’t matter. This was about Darill proving she still had what it took to put a ship up in the sky. 

Which was precisely why he didn’t stop her. He took his cigarette back from her, put it out in the ashtray in the center of the table, and stood up beside her. “So I guess that’s a yes,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. 

“Didn’t know you were so easy to convince,” Celes said. 

“Yes you did,” he teased, “all you have to do is make the right bet. This one,” Setzer snuck an arm around Darill’s waist, and this time she didn’t push him away, “can be coerced on pride alone. We can discuss details in the morning.” 

“Because right now, we’re leaving.” Darill glanced at Celes over her shoulder. “Oh and grab the bottle. I paid for that. Not wasting good booze at a time like this.” 

“Are you planning on finishing it all tonight?” Setzer asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Saving some to celebrate tomorrow.” Looking at the twins lingering in the doorway, Darill gestured with her head. Both Edgar and Sabin took the hint, stepping back from the door, and Setzer had never seen them looking more identical. “Gentlemen.” 

Edgar opened his mouth to say something, but Sabin slashed a hand over his throat. Setzer patted his friend on the arm. “We’ll catch up tomorrow,” he promised Edgar. And with that, Setzer and Darill disappeared into the night. 


	5. Chapter 5

Ever since leaving Vector and the colleagues who tried to manipulate her for her brilliant mind, Darill had a paranoid streak. Setzer knew this, and understood her reasons for it, but that didn’t mean he necessarily agreed with keeping their prototype buried in a cavern several kilometers outside of Kohlingen. Since they were meeting Celes, Edgar, and Sabin here, he also knew Darill was taking them on the long hike just to mess with them. 

Fine by Setzer - he considered it payback for the trick with the double-headed coin, all those months ago. 

Edgar arranged for chocobos to transport them, which spared their legs as they crossed the grassy plains. If it was done with Darill’s needs in mind, Setzer didn’t ask, but he appreciated the thought. As Darill went ahead, lost in her own mind, Edgar fell back until his chocobo was in line with Setzer’s. “So tell me,” Edgar purred, leaning over so the others couldn’t hear him, “you never told me you were a taken man.” 

“You never asked.” Setzer watched Darill riding, her cane strapped atop the bags on the chocobos’ back for easier travel. “Our relationship is unconventional. You all just happened to find me when I was not with her.” 

“And to our benefit at the time, I must admit,” Edgar said. Of all of the Returners, Setzer might have been intrigued the most by Celes, but he connected best with Edgar. His take on technology was intriguing, and someday he hoped to see how Figaro Castle worked in person. “She’s an fascinating woman.” 

“That she is.” Even from here, Darill was stunning. Her blonde hair remained unbound, floating behind her in the wind, and her red jacket tapered at just the right places to highlight her form. “Don’t be getting any ideas.” 

Chuckling, Edgar shook his head. “I don’t steal a friend’s woman, what sort of man do you take me for? Some harmless flirting, on the other hand…” 

Setzer side-eyed him. “She’ll take your head off,” he warned. “And I’ll let her.” Darill wasn’t the sort of woman who wanted someone else to fight her battles for her, and that hadn’t changed since her injury. If Setzer jumped in, she would turn that wrath onto him as well. “Might be fun to watch.” 

Edgar laid a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Me? I thought we were friends, Setzer! Not someone you’d feed to the wolves!” 

“Friends, yes. But she’s my partner.” Girlfriend was never the word to describe what Darill meant to him. Lover was too vulgar, focusing too much on the physicality of their relationship. Soulmate was better, but it was too personal to share. And Darill would never stoop so low as to allow herself to be nothing more than his wife. The relationship worked for them, and he didn’t care if the others didn’t understand.

Up ahead, they approached a familiar hillside. Darill slowed down, Celes and Sabin following suit. Setzer tugged on the chocobo’s reins, coming to a stop. “We’re here,” he said, dismounting so he could help Darill with their latest equipment. 

The three Returners fanned out. Sabin examined the entrance with the experience of a tracker and survivalist. Celes went with him. “Where are we going?” Sabin asked. “Have you explored the cave? Do you know what’s down there?” 

While Setzer loaded the equipment onto a sled, Darill adjusted her crossbow over her shoulder. “Explored, yes. It was the safest place to keep the airship while we finished building it. And it’s not a cave, it’s an old fort from the War of the Magi.” She shrugged. “Monsters took up residence there in the years since then. Be on your guard.” 

“Fear not, my friend,” Setzer said, coming over to clasp Sabin’s shoulder. “It’s nothing a warrior of your caliber should worry about.” If they could handle the monsters with his cards and Darill’s crossbow, a party of five wouldn’t have any trouble. 

“And we’ve built a security system around the ship itself,” Darill added. “Once we reach it, we’re home free.” 

Celes narrowed her eyes. “How are you planning on getting an airship out of here, exactly?” 

Pointing off into the distance, Darill shrugged. “There’s a second entrance on the cliff side. Some of us aren’t capable of climbing down that way.” She knocked her cane against her metal leg. “So through the ruins we go. You’re welcome to go on your own if it’ll make you feel better.” 

“The fort it is then.” Celes’ jaw tightened. “Sabin, with me. Edgar, bring up the rear.” The command in her voice said she wouldn’t hear any arguments. With her sword in hand - a different one than Setzer remembered her carrying a year ago - she took off into the ruins. 

Darill hung back, making sure all of the equipment was secured. “That’s the woman you mistook for Maria?” she asked, not looking at him. 

“To be fair, they’d dressed her up in Maria’s costume. She sang the aria and everything.” 

“You always were a sucker for a girl with a pretty voice.” 

“And balls of steel. She reminds me of someone else I know.” 

Smirking, Darill gave him a quick kiss. “Ever the sweet talker. You’re lucky I love you.” She patted their gear affectionately. “Come on. Let’s head out.” 

Having travelled through the fortress on several trips now, both Setzer and Darill were aware of its particular pitfalls and trouble spots.  Stone walls and passageways crumbled into disarray, giving way underneath the strains of time and use. Several switches were built into the walls, used to lower and raise the water level to open passageways. Whoever built the place wanted to make sure no one would walk through the front door, and Darill loved it, even if the monsters were sometimes relentless.  When it was just Darill and Setzer coming down here, they avoided most of the fights and sped through as quickly as possible. With Celes’ sword, Sabin’s fists, and Edgar’s tools on their side, nothing could stop them. 

But Darill had chosen this place for a reason. The locals would deter anyone who wanted to come down here, and given the state of the world since the Warring Triad split in half, who knew what would happen if news of another airship came to light. Darill was paranoid enough to guard her work at all costs and Setzer loved Darill, so he followed her lead. 

It was worth it when they finally reached their destination. The narrow passageways opened into a wide, open room, stone stairs leading down to an old courtyard. There were benches lining the side walls along with spaces that might have once housed flowers or plants. Now, Setzer and Darill had repurposed them into makeshift workbenches. Nestled in the center, wooden support beams holding it in place, was Darill’s new airship. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, the hull shiny and silver, but without some of the decorations Setzer loved about his Blackjack. 

Edgar’s eyes lit up like a child in a candy store. “She’s marvelous!” he said, starting a slow circle around the airship, taking in all the details. “You said she hadn’t had her first flight yet, right? What else do you need?” 

“It doesn’t fly?” Celes blinked. “How is that helpful to us?” 

Darill didn’t stop for the others, hauling their new equipment down the makeshift ramp they’d built over one set of stairs. “It’s closer to done than you think,” she said, punching a code into a keypad on the side of the ship. The door whisked open, and she turned to face the group. “And unless you have some other ride arranged, I think we’re the best you’ve got.” 

Throwing his head back, Sabin laughed. “A new project, I love it! Edgar will be busy for days!” He clasped Celes’ shoulder. “Don’t worry. Between those three, we’ll be in the sky in no time. And back looking for our friends.” 

“Sabin is right,” Setzer said, meeting Celes’ eyes. “There is no one I trust more in this world than Darill. When the Blackjack fell from the sky, she was the one who found me. Neither one of us particularly like having our feet glued to the ground, but with this…” He gestured to the airship in front of them, “this is our chance to fly again. If you want our help, you’ll have it. But we need to finish this first.” 

“And I’m not going to sit here while you discuss things in a committee!” Darill called from inside the airship. When she reappeared in the doorway, she’d stripped off her red jacket and blouse, revealing a plain white tank underneath. Soon that tank would be smeared with grease and sweat, the signs of a hard day’s work. The sight still had Setzer’s breath catching in his throat, all these years later.  “Setzer, I need you in the engine room. I trust you can keep Edgar entertained while you’re down there. Sabin, Celes, help me unload this equipment.” 

A grin spread over Edgar’s face. “A pretty lady and working on an airship? Consider me honor to be by your side.” He bowed to Darill. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Have you named her yet? Are we allowed to give suggestions?” 

Darill patted the hull, like she was petting a cat. They’d had long talks about the airship’s name, for it didn’t feel right to reuse the Falcon or the Blackjack again. This was their baby. The airship they’d built together, cobbled from pieces of both their previous rides. Setzer had suggested some variation of “phoenix,” but Darill had a better idea. “Highwind,” she murmured. “I think she’s the Highwind.” 

Then her gaze swept over the four of them. “If you want to get Kefka, we need to get moving.” 

That was the Darill he loved: always wanting to do things her way, whether others followed her or not. There was no one else Setzer wanted to be with - and no one else better suited to fly them while they tried to save the world. He glanced around, meeting Edgar’s eyes, then Sabin’s, before he locked onto Celes’ gaze.  “After you,” he said, gesturing to the former General to go on ahead of him. “This was your plan, after all.” 

Celes scoffed. “I didn’t say that.” She paused, looking down at the ground. “I am glad to see you alive,” she admitted softly. “When the Blackjack fell, everyone assumed the worst.” 

Memories of that day still haunted him. Sometimes Setzer woke in the middle of the night, seeing Terra’s wide eyes as she fell from his grasp. But all any of them could do was move forward. If they could make Kefka pay for what he’d done to the world, even better. “I’m a hard man to kill, Celes,” he said. “But it’s past us now. We can’t change what happened. We can only adapt to the future that lies ahead.” 

Taking a step back, he offered her his hand. “Come on. Let me show you the Highwind.” 

Soon they’d be in the skies again. Soon they would find their other friends - surely others had to survive, just as they had. They would gather their strength, come up with a plan, and take Kefka down, once and for all. 

Then there wouldn’t be anything that would stand in their way. 


End file.
